


Your Candle, Your Statuette

by queerofcups



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/M, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerofcups/pseuds/queerofcups
Summary: Patrick gets a show and makes dinner plans.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/Stevie Budd/David Rose
Comments: 28
Kudos: 125
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	Your Candle, Your Statuette

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mihaly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihaly/gifts).



> Giftee, I had/have such big plans to populate the David/Stevie/Patrick tag, all your prompts were so good. I hope you like this first stab at the pairing! Happy holidays!
> 
> Title is from The Decemberists' Philomena

When he’d been figuring things out, in the window between coming to Schitt’s Creek and meeting David, Patrick had watched a lot of porn. 

In his defense, he’d read a lot of books and listened to podcasts about human sexuality and self-identity. A lot of it was abstract and academic and even though he got it, when he worked hard at understanding all the unnecessary terms, it left him feeling cold. The podcasts and Youtube videos were better. He was able to put faces to experiences and hear people talk about realizing that they could have the thing they wanted. 

And the thing Patrick wanted was men. He’d checked, again and again, with clips and full-length videos and his own imagination and if David hadn’t come along, he might have checked on that Bumpkin app, too.

But David had come along and gave Patrick a chance to apply some theories and confirm that he’s really gay. Super gay. So gay he went and married and subsequently fell in love with a man. So gay that even though David was the first man he’d ever kissed, they’re rounding on their third year together and Patrick still gets butterflies when the light hits David’s eyelashes just right. 

So gay that when he walks into the back of the store after locking up for the night, and David’s got Stevie pressed, gently, against the wall, with his hand down her too-big jeans, Patrick’s first thought is to appreciate the long length of David’s forearm as it flexes and disappears into the dark between denim and Stevie’s skin.

Patrick leans against the doorway and watches them. Stevie’s got her eyes closed, and her head tilted back so David can lean down and pepper kisses across her brow. It’s quiet, so quiet in the shop now that no one’s here and Patrick can hear the wet squelch of David’s fingers moving in and out of Stevie.

It’s beautiful, and a little unbelievable, the way David’s face changes when he’s like this. All of the softness and the sweet mischievous smirk sharpens into this predatory gaze. David looks at Stevie like he’s trying to guess what she wants and give it to her before she can even ask. 

Judging by the way she’s gasping, and shoving her shoulders against the wall so she can ride David’s fingers, he’s making good guesses.

Patrick likes Stevie a lot. She’s pretty and funny and always down to help rile David up. Somewhere along the way she’d become his best friend just as much as she was David’s. 

And she gets bonus points for this--the way she gives Patrick a chance to watch David take someone else apart. Without her, Patrick might have never known how much he loves watching David work for every sigh, every quiet moan. He’d never get to watch David try and trace nonsensical shapes onto someone’s skin with his teeth and tongue. 

“C’mon,” Stevie murmurs, “I’m close.”

“Oh, are you?” David asks, “Because _someone_ said that I take too long to make them come and it's been less than ten minutes. Isn’t that funny, Stevie? That I _told you_ that and you said even Patrick agreed with you!”

“Shut up,” Stevie gasps, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Stop talking, shut up, shut up, shut up.”

David says, “That’s really rude of you, Stevie.” but even Patrick is distracted by the way Stevie’s eyes roll back and her back arches taut and arched and David’s fingers keep moving, rapidly now, fingerfucking her in earnest, even while he calmly argues with her. 

Stevie pulls him closer, goes up on her toes to do it and David leans in to kiss her face and murmur something probably equally wicked and annoying into her ear. Her body ripples with the orgasm. 

Patrick watches and waits until she’s done riding the waves, and is slumped back against the wall, eyes still closed.

“Knock knock,” he says. 

Stevie jumps a little and her eyes snap open. David glances over his shoulder then looks back at Stevie like he’s got all the time in the world. The ease of it, the evidence that David knew Patrick was there all along and hadn’t paused in fucking Stevie, drove another stake of warm desire across Patrick’s hips.   
“Hate to break this up,” Patrick starts. 

“You really don’t have to,” David says and looks back at Patrick again, a little of the vulpine look receding when he smiles. 

“I really do,” Patrick says. “We all agreed to a strict no-fucking-in-the-backroom policy after the Great Walk In of 2022.”

Stevie groaned loudly, “Please don’t talk about Mr. Rose while someone’s got fingers in me.”

“Please don’t say my dad’s name while I’m fucking you,” David says very seriously. 

His hand hasn’t stopped moving. He’s slowed down, the curl of his wrist gentled but he hasn’t stopped and Stevie hasn’t asked him to. 

Christ.

“I would really like to jerk off,” Patrick says, “Now that I’ve walked in on all of this. And _I_ can’t do that if we’re here. Because there’s literally no reason to think someone won’t walk in.”

“You could lock the door,” David argues, but Patrick knows him well enough to know David’s arguing for the sake of argument, even before he’s gently pulling his fingers out of Stevie’s jeans. He pecks a kiss onto her forehead apologetically. 

Patrick catches the way her wetness shines on David’s fingers and webs between them when David flexes his hand. 

Christ. He needs to get home and out of the jeans immediately.

“Stevie,” Patrick says, clearing his throat. “Do you want to come over for dinner?”

“Oh, dinner?” Stevie says, grinning at him and glancing at David. “Is that what we call it now.”

“Nope,” Patrick says, before David can respond with whatever cheeky snipe about Patrick’s innocence he’s thought of. “I mean I’m going to literally cook. I pulled chicken out to defrost. And then probably watch David eat you out until you scream. And then probably fuck David until _he_ screams. It's a mutually beneficial dinner.”

“Or,” Stevie says, tugging her flannel back into place and finally buttoning her jeans. “You cook dinner, we forget about it while I watch David eat _you_ out and then he eats me out, too.” 

“Hey!” David says.

“That sounds like a plan,” Patrick says, extending an arm for Stevie to take. “I like that plan a lot.”


End file.
